


A Flirt (or two, or three)

by cathywrites



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-16 17:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5834773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathywrites/pseuds/cathywrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a well known fact that Grantaire flirts with Enjolras. He does it often. He does it loudly. Every one knows about it, has come to expect it - Courfeyrac has even gone as far as saying that a night out wouldn't be complete without Grantaire throwing the most ridiculous pick-up line Enjolras' way.</p>
<p>The only problem is that no matter how many times Grantaire throws a wink Enjolras' way, it seems to go straight over his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Flirt (or two, or three)

It's a well known fact that Grantaire flirts with Enjolras. He does it often. He does it loudly. Every one knows about it, has come to expect it - Courfeyrac has even gone as far as saying that a night out wouldn't be complete without Grantaire throwing the most ridiculous pick-up line Enjolras' way.

The only problem is that no matter how many times Grantaire throws a wink Enjolras' way, it seems to go straight over his head. It has become a game of sorts, and Grantaire is pretty sure Bahorel set up a bet at some point, to see how many times in a week Grantaire can hit on Enjolras. The record is twenty-seven. Which is ridiculous. Enjolras is ridiculous. Grantaire is ridiculous. 

Even more ridiculous is the fact that Grantaire is well on his way of breaking his own record, and in one night nonetheless. They're at a bar, one they haven't visited before, and Grantaire is a bit too sober to be able to blame this incredible amount of flirting on alcohol – they've only been there for half an hour and he has already dropped some serious innuendos into his conversation with Enjolras. 

The topic of the night is changes in all shapes and forms, as it usually is. They've gone through economic structural changes, changes in health-care, pros and cons about the latest educational change, you name it – it has been talked about.

At the very moment, they're in a deep conversation about which one thing they'd change about the world if they, by some miracle, was allowed to change anything they wanted.

Well, Combeferre and Enjolras are in a deep conversation, throwing suggestions back and forth, Grantaire butts in every now and then to bring Enjolras back down to earth when he loses himself in far too unrealistic dreams and Courfeyrac saves the day by talking Enjolras and Grantaire out of oncoming arguments. 

After a while of Grantaire being the pessimistic little shit he always is, Enjolras turns to him and gives him his undivided attention, crosses his arms and stares at him for a long time. They've known each other for so long, but Grantaire has never managed to get used to Enjolras looking right at him. It makes his stomach flip. 

“So, Grantaire. You seem to have objections to every single thing we'd like to change about this world and the way it works,” he says and Grantaire tries to keep from rolling his eyes. Here we go again with the dramatics. “You're fine with it as is, are you?” 

Grantaire grins. “No.” 

“No?” 

“There are some things I'd change,” Grantaire says and leans forward. He can tell Courfeyrac's holding his breath and Combeferre closes his eyes for a moment, both of them knowing what's about to fall from Grantaire's lips. “For example, the alphabet.” 

Enjolras looks confused and gives him a frown. Courfeyrac is biting his lip so hard Grantaire is sure he's going to bruise it. 

“You want to change the alphabet?” Enjolras asks, furrowing his brows and sends him a small glare. “Be serious.” 

“I am,” Grantaire says, leaning closer still. “If I could, I'd rearrange it.” 

Enjolras frowns. “Why?” 

“Because I think U and I should be together,” Grantaire deadpans.

Enjolras continues to frown. Courfeyrac bursts out laughing. Combeferre hides a smile. Grantaire groans loudly before he picks up his now empty glass and walks away; there's only so much he can handle while being moderately sober and this isn't on that short list.

He makes it to the bar, where he puts his glass down and asks for a refill, before his phone buzzes in his pocket. Grantaire whisks it up, notices that the text message is from Enjolras and proceeds to stare at it.

Wait, did you just flirt with me?

Grantaire is not sure if he wants to fist-pump or face-palm in that moment, so instead he just lifts his gaze and looks over to where Enjolras and the others are seated and notices a vibrant blush on Enjolras' face. He types the reply quickly, to put Enjolras out of his obvious misery. 

Have been for the past year, thanks for noticing. 

The reaction is immediate; Enjolras gets the text, reads the text, and then he accidentally knocks over his drink. 

Courfeyrac looks his way and Grantaire gives him a thumbs up and Courfeyrac gapes at him for the shortest moment before punching Combeferre on the arm and Grantaire can see him telling 'Ferre that Enjolras knows. 

The news travel fast, because Bahorel overhears Courfeyrac and tells Jehan who basically bounces out of their chair in excitement and Joly and Bossuet both roll their eyes in a fucking-finally kind of way. 

From where he's standing, he can see the exact moment when Enjolras realizes that every single one of their friends knew and he decides to send off a text before Enjolras' glare actually strikes someone down. 

Meet me outside?

The blond is out of his chair and moving towards the exit so quickly, Grantaire is unsure at first if he's leaving because of the text or because he simply wants to get the hell out of there. Either way, Grantaire follows him out. Enjolras waits for him at the door, holds it open for him and closes it behind him. 

He's fairly sure he should start by saying something to ease the tension but he's not sure what would be appropriate and he's not even sure how Enjolras feels about this. It had all been fun and games until now, until Enjolras was actually aware of the whole thing, because now there was a big, fat chance he's going to be rejected and that would be even worse than not being noticed. 

He could live with not being noticed, with throwing his flirtatious sentences Enjolras way and not having him pick up on them – that's fine. Sure, it hurts but it's not a flat out rejection - which he's growing more and more certain is on its way because Enjolras is so very quiet and his face is so very still.

“You've been flirting with me for a year,” is all Enjolras says. It's not what Grantaire was expecting, but he'll take it.

“Yes,” Grantaire says, managing to make it sound more like a question than anything else. 

“And they all knew.” 

“There might have been a bet,” Grantaire confesses and he's pretty sure he should've kept that to himself because Enjolras looks mortified and Grantaire grimaces. 

“Everyone knew.”

“I think Marius might still be in the blue about it.” 

“Not comforting,” Enjolras _whines_. Grantaire bites his lip. “Marius is in the blue about most things.” 

There's a silence again, one that stretches for longer than the last and Grantaire wants to say something, should say something, but there are just no words. He used them all up on stupid pick-up lines and now there are none left to be serious with. While he struggles to find something to say, Enjolras just stares at him. 

For the longest time, the blond just stares at him and Grantaire begins to wonder if there's something on his face – did he forget to wash some paint off? Did he spill something? Is there a bruise? He brings a hand up to subtly check but finds nothing out of the ordinary. Just his face then, he thinks to himself. 

“You've been flirting with me for a year,” Enjolras says again and Grantaire is unsure what to say this time, so he figures that if Enjolras can be on repeat, so can he. 

“Yes?” 

“And you didn't ask me out.” 

That was new. That was definitely new. That was so new Grantaire nearly fell over. Should he have? 

“Should I have?” 

“I think your point would've gotten across a lot faster if you had,” Enjolras says. 

“Would you have said yes?” Grantaire asks, putting his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a nervous habit of his. Eponine says it's adorable. Maybe that's why Enjolras smiles. It's a very small smile. It's very shy smile. It's a very cute smile. Grantaire is so busy thinking about adjectives to describe Enjolras' smile, he almost misses what he says.

“I don't know, you should try.” 

He hadn't prepared for this. He had prepared for a night full of stupid flirting and getting himself drunk enough to forget about Enjolras not noticing; he hadn't prepared to ask him out. He recovers fast, though. 

“Okay.” 

Enjolras looks at him, obviously expecting him to continue but Grantaire doesn't, he just stares back at him with a cheeky expression. 

“What?” 

“Oh, just wondering how I should put it so that it doesn't go over your head--”

“ _Grantaire_.” 

“Sorry,” he grins, staring up at Enjolras through dark curls. “Go out with me?” 

Enjolras smiles. “Okay.” 

From inside the bar, they can hear Courfeyrac shout, “He said yes!”

**Author's Note:**

> Based on that post on Tumblr - you know which one. Hope you liked it!


End file.
